


Untitled 03

by losselen (zambla)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Experimental, Gen, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zambla/pseuds/losselen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>remus. christmas. snow. the shadow of sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled 03

**Author's Note:**

> almost r/s, originally written in 2004. slight edits here & there.

His room was empty.

A Muggle phone / sheets bundled on the carpet / cigarette ends scattered on the only table where he shifted through them for salvages. A small telly on the same table was hissing out black and white images of a Christmas tree. In front of the church a blue shadow stood on the snow. A bell was singing its solemn voice. A woman was looking at him, the sound from her cigarette all wrong; the hem of her shirt hastily tucked and the scarf around her taut. He avoided her eyes.

Behind the woman, the church stood

Behind the church, the ground froze

Behind that, an empty field of already-gone corn

 _lux nova_ was the proper term borrowed from the French / the angel on the portal had a chipped nose and tired streams of lichen on his wings / the snow was melting from two days ago / Remus wavered, standing on the path to the narthex, one foot on a step, one foot in the trodden snow. He craned his neck; the grave building gave away, pierced with morning. It looked like night was lifting.

somewhere in the world where there was no longer winter

Upon the ruffled breast of the morning a song broke like wet cedar. The voices of children rose and fell, all slowly, gingerly. Remus took a picture of them, all seven of them, standing there ankle-deep in white ashes, reverence sliding from their hollow mouths. The cape of night gave them a frame.

He never remembered the song

but in his mind, it forever married with snow

 

 

_break_

 

 

When he came back at night, no star was shining from Bethlehem; nothing slept.

 

 

_break_

 

OUTSIDE in the snow a boy was playing alone. Remus watched him, sipping his coffee. The boy had his hands outstretched, his head drawn up; fingers naked and spread like a heron's wings. He was vulnerable in the cold. He spun with his arms unfolded like that, a bit like a puppy chasing its tail, his scarf flying up. Remus breathed into his coffee and a great vapor rose; when it dissipated the boy was gone.

 

 

_break_

 

 

CLANG form the living room. Remus smelled Floo powder but he did not turn.

-Hullo Moony, a feathery hand on his shoulder said.

-Pads. Hey. Remus said and did not say.

-Isn't it fucking brilliant? The snow I mean. I love this place. I just wish they'd stop singing those bloody songs. What're they called?

-Carols. The C of E actually banned them at one time. Cromwell tried to, I think.

-As in, Commonwealth, Charles the First?

-Charles the First.

-Right. Well. I've something t'do in the city. Coming with?

-No. 's all right.

Sirius had a song bubbling in his throat. Remus didn't remember that either. He watched as Sirius grabbed a handful of powder and disappeared behind the door.

Sirius came back the next morning, smelling of a girl's juniper perfume. Remus thought about a girl with juniper perfume, with skin-smooth shoulders from which satin straps were meant to be slowly brushed off. He thought of a girl with dark eyes who did not talk about Cromwell. He tossed hair out of his eyes. Sirius was watching him.

 

 

_break_

 

when the new-found year grew old  
with grief, a child was born and  
he was crowned, the green light  
said _o savior_ crooned _o savior_ sang _o savior_


End file.
